Beauty, Truth
by Wasabi
Summary: A young woman discovers truth in the majesty of creation, and contemplates life in the Lord's care, protection and love. Check it out if you enjoy inoffensive, poetic reasoning!


**_Beauty, Truth_**.

Have you ever just felt happy? 

It's such a great sensation, this warmth that's fighting for freedom in the cage of your chest. The only way it can be released is if you laugh, though you may not have a complete conscious grasp of why. Who can properly ascertain where true happiness _really _comes from?

I think I can.

I walk through the meadows. The strength of the afternoon sunlight is moderate, forgiving, and refreshing as it shines in tandem with the whisper of the cool breeze from the south. I climb patiently to the top of the grassy crest that overlooks the valley below. My breath catches in my throat as I gaze, awestricken, over the endless pastures of thick green, the dunes of rich flora levelling off at the arcing circumference of the horizon beyond. This is not the first time I have witnessed such majesty. Truth be told, I've wandered these fields for as long as I can remember. But times change. Now I've found _Him_, and through Him, I've found _perspective._

_It seems I've imagined Him all of my life,_

_as the wisest of all of mankind;_

_but if God's only wisdom is foolish to men,_

_He must've seemed out of His mind._

I hug my arms around my chest absent-mindedly, my pensive, admiring gaze following the movement of the breeze below, its path distinguishable by the blades of grass as they bow in its wake. Strangely, my feelings of admiration are heightened, now that I know such splendour isn't a bi-product of some bizarre coincidence. Only a Master Creator could conceive something so grand, so lavish, and at the same time, so peaceful and serene. I mull over the concept of my newfound faith once more as I think this. Am I being irrational in believing that _this _is the work of some benevolent invisible entity? Perhaps. But rational thought is _mankind's_ way of deducing what is and isn't true.  

_For even his family said He was mad_,

_and the priests said, "A demon's to blame";_

_but God in the form of this angry young man_

_could not have been perfectly sane._

I blink several times in succession, shaking my head lightly to restore my senses. Stepping carefully down the face of the grassy crest, I let my eyes wander to my favourite place just over the next ridge of spongy green and radiant orchids. The thick base of the Sakura tree twists and thins into a web of branches near the top, each branch contributing to a dome of dark leaves and white blossoms. Near the base of the seasoned tree, in the shade of its almighty girth, a pool of crystal water sparkles as the same breath of wind dances over the glossy surface of its sunlit shore. The body of water itself is quite large – it's like a lagoon. I used to swim here as a child………thoughts of yesteryear play slowly about my mind, and from that, I begin to contemplate my life before Him.

_When we in our foolishness thought we were wise_

_He played the fool and He opened our eyes._

_When we in our weakness believed we were strong,_

_He became helpless to show we were wrong_

_Ignorance is relative_, I surmise after a short while of thoughtful, cross-legged sitting, _Relative to each person. _After discovering, understanding, and welcoming Him into my life, I feel I am qualified to label my life _before _Him as a life of ignorance. And yet, those with opposing beliefs are just as qualified to say the opposite in their defence. A lot of things are relative. Like _truth_, for example. Nobody can define what truth is, and so they base their beliefs on what makes the most sense. And if that philosophy were to be taken literally, _how on earth _did I find truth in Him?

Again, I find the answer in the miracle of His creation.

I stand upright and stretch my arms as far as flexibility permits, letting my head fall back, and relishing the sensation of a golden warmth over my neck. I unfasten my thin, cotton _yukata_, a white afternoon gown, and stand naked, unashamed in the sighing breath of the breeze. Without a second thought, I plunge trustingly into the pool before me.

_And so we follow God's own fool;_

_for only the foolish can tell._

_Believe the unbelievable;_

_And come be a fool as well._

My long, dark hair flails slowly in whichever direction the churning wake of my dive dictates. With an effortless thrust of my right flank, my body twirls, and I look to the late afternoon sky, awed by the kaleidoscope of sunlight off the surface, the once unanimous glow now rippling over my face in thick shafts of warping light. When the tingling, effervescent sensation of the tiny bubbles against my bare skin is spent, I thrust once more and propel myself to the shore, falling languidly onto the sand and peering up at the deep blue dome above, my arms raised on either side. Some time passes, and the saturation eventually isolates itself into beads of dew over my skin. I sit upright and, for some reason, I am compelled to just _study _myself. My intense gaze locks itself over my hand as I turn it slowly, as if it were on display. Can I even begin to comprehend just how complex my body is? Just how _amazing_? Indeed, _I am fearfully and wonderfully made_, and I have Him to thank. Without Him, I can only dismiss myself, and mankind, as a fortunate coincidence. 

_So surrender the hunger to say you must know,_

_have the courage to say: "I believe"._

_For the power of paradox opens your eyes,_

_and blinds those who say they can see._

I clothe myself, even though the climate remains blissfully comfortable in the orange haze of the evening. Undoubtedly, I have learned much this afternoon, after what was once a routine inspection of nature. Am I to deduce that _every _day in His protection will be so wonderful? Of course not. I did not choose to follow Him on the premise of a life without suffering. But with the perspective I've attained in His name, I will approach the trials and tribulations of this life with a willingness to learn, not to blame. I turn to face the green pastures one more time. They're dark now, under the lavender hue of the late evening sky. But every bit as beautiful. Nay, _infinitely _beautiful, for now I know who's responsible.

_And so we follow God's own fool;_

_for only the foolish can tell._

_Believe the unbelievable;_

_Come be a fool as well_.

Happiness, I believe, results from love. And in His supreme love, I find supreme happiness. It's really that simple. 

*

_A/N: The song used throughout this piece is **God's Own Fool** by Michael Card. Thank you for reading, please R & R, and of course – God bless! =)_


End file.
